A Curse in Darkness by Sherilee Gray
Chapter 31
Willow
Flames surrounded the cemetery.
The smell of smoke and burned flesh filled my head. My heart was a lump of coal in my chest.
Warrick hadn’t come. I’d called for him. I’d called until my throat was raw, and still, he never came.
Now they were gone.
They were all gone.
Their charred bodies scattered around the cemetery like crumbling statuary—Mom and Else clinging to Rose, Art with his arms around all of them, trying to shield them to the very end. I turned in a slow circle, numb, so fucking numb, while ash floated on the air around me like falling snow. My Iris was curled on the ground, Nia at her side. A sob crawled up my throat when my eyes finally landed on Mags and Bram, his body covering hers protectively, while she clung to him.
Clayton promised me he’d let her go, that he’d spare her if we surrendered. He’d lied. He’d fucking lied.
He grabbed my hair, fisting it, and shoved my head back. I let him. I had nothing left. Nothing. He’d already bound my powers with the dark magic he’d given himself over to. He’d been too strong. He’d overpowered us.
“Kill me,” I said.
He smiled. “Oh no, that won’t do.” He clicked his fingers, and a frightened man I’d never seen before rushed forward, Cora at his side. “Say hello to the nice man. He’s about to bind us for a lifetime of wedded bliss.” His smile widened. “I can’t claim all this power if we’re not married, now can I, darling.”
A short time later, I became Mrs. Clayton Whitlock without even uttering an I do. The minister didn’t seem to need one. It probably had something to do with the huge wad of cash Cora handed him when it was done.
I wouldn’t survive this. I didn’t want to.
My death was the only way to stop it—and I would stop it.
* * *
Warrick
It had been six months of literal Hell, and as I strode through the massive chamber surrounded by fire, by souls screaming in agony, I knew I was finally going home to my dove.
Gus walked beside me. The young hound was only six months old but looked mid-twenties, by human standards. The new pack of hellhounds had come a long way in a short time, but then we’d been highly motivated to get them to this point.
We moved farther into the chamber, and Gus lined up with his brothers. “I’ll be back,” I said to them. “Until then, Jagger is in charge. Do as he says.”
“Yes, alpha,” they all said in unison.
Jag had agreed to stay here for another couple of months, with me coming back for short visits every couple of weeks. Once they were ready to go it alone, I’d spread my visits out to every month or when Lucifer was away from Hell.
I strode over to Maddox, who was staying as well. He’d been brought back when the rest of us had. Mad was still struggling with what happened, his loss, and had no desire to return above ground. I didn’t think that would change for a long while, if at all. We clasped hands and the pain in his eyes as fresh as it had been the day he lost his mate. “There’ll always be a place for you, brother, when you’re ready.”
With another nod, Mad strode away, and I joined my brothers gathered across from our new hounds, and where Lucifer stood shooting the shit.
“You ready to go home?” he asked me.
“Fuck, yes.”
He chuckled. “I’ll try not to take that as an insult.” He lifted a hand. “You should get back around the time you left, it’s not exact, so any trouble, just call.” He lifted his cell phone and waved it about.
Boots shuffled, my brothers as anxious to leave as me.
“Right, catch you on the flippity-flip,” Lucifer said and clicked his fingers.
We started to fade, then poof.
We were home.